Atlantis
by Satan'sLittleLamb
Summary: "The only thing scarier than Daryl is Merle. Now, the only thing scarier than Merle is Scarlett." Zombies, swearing, sexual themes, racist remarks, killing, fighting, and Native American stories/beliefs make up one hell of an adventure for this group. *HIATUS*
1. Chapter 1

**Atlantis:**

"_**The only thing scarier than Daryl is Merle. Now, the only thing scarier than Merle is Scarlett." Zombies, swearing, sexual themes, racist remarks, killing, fighting, and Native American stories/beliefs make up one hell of an adventure for this group.**_

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**Hi everyone!**

**This is my first TWD story, and I'm pretty nervous about how ya'll will take it. This is a Daryl/OC story, I just don't like the whole Carol/Daryl thing, but I somewhat ship Bethyl, but not completely. **

**My OC's name is Scarlett "Inola" Thornton (Inola means 'Black Fox' in Cherokee). She is 33 years old, so that makes Daryl two years older than her. She grew up with both Dixon brothers in Georgia, and spent sometime on the Indian Reservation where half her family lived (I'm not 100% positive if Georgia has reservations). She is half European and half Native American, Cherokee. **

**This will start in season 1 and build it's way up to season 4, and once season 5 begins we shall carry on from there.**

**So please enjoy your read.**

**~I own nothing and nobody except for Scarlett. **

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_**Atlantis:** a legendary island, first mentioned by Plato, said to have existed in the Atlantic Ocean west of Gibraltar and to have sunk beneath the sea, but linked by some modern archaeologists with the island of Thera, the surviving remnant of a much larger island destroyed by a volcanic eruption c1500 _

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**Chapter 1: Thunder's Sister**

Carl and Sophia rested against their mothers, covering their heads with the hats the group handed out. The rain came down hard, soaking them all. Thunder pounded, sounding as if it were coming closer and closer, lightning strikes, practically blinding them. Everyone was soaked, no matter what they wore, but the only one who didn't try to cover up was Scarlett.

"Mom," Sophia whimpered. "I'm scared. I hate storms."

Carol pulled her daughter closer. "Just do what I told you; count as far as you can, and when you hear the thunder that's how many miles away it is."

Sophia nodded her head, but still looked fearful. "One, two…" The thunder rumbled, causing Sophia to jump.

Carl buried his face into the blanket his mother was wrapped up in, trying to think of anything else but the storm.

Merle spat and yanked the hat off his head. "Shut 'em kids up. Some people are tryin' ta relax."

Lori glared at Merle as Carol tried to shush Sophia.

The group was a mixed bunch, all of them having different points of views and attitudes, but everyone would agree that Merle Dixon was an asshole. Every word that came out of his mouth was rude, something sexual, or a racist comment. He made everyone uncomfortable, all except Scarlett.

Merle's brother, Daryl was a different story. The two Dixons were close, only trusting each other and Scarlett. They stuck by each other, but the brothers couldn't have been more different. Merle was an asshole, an alcoholic, a druggie, and his attitude was complete shit. He'd gut you in a heartbeat, and was constantly calling Daryl _Darlene_. He preached to Daryl day and night that they were kin, and that meant they took care of each other.

Daryl was quiet; he didn't cause much trouble like his brother. He normally hunted for food and joined the group that volunteered to go into the city to find any useful supplies. Daryl liked to stay out of people's way, and only liked to be bothered by Merle or Scarlett. Growing up, and even now, Merle made it clear to Daryl that they were all they had, but Daryl knew that wasn't true. They had Scarlett too, no matter how much she and Merle bickered and fought, they had each other.

Looking across the camp ground, Daryl locked eyes with Scarlett. She rolled her eyes at Merle and mockingly stuck her tongue out. Daryl felt his lips twitch to smile, but quickly controlled it. He never truly smiled.

Scarlett diverted her attention to the kids clinging to their mothers. It was an odd sight to her. Scarlett couldn't recall her mother ever comforting her when she was hurt or scared. The woman never abused Scarlett; it was just that she wasn't an emotional person. Scarlett couldn't blame her mother, though. Her grandmother wasn't the kindest person.

"In the old times the people used to dance often and all night. Once there was a dance at the old town of Sâkwi'yï, on the head of Chattahoochee, and after it was well started two young women with beautiful long hair came in, but no one knew who they were, or whence they had come."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Scarlett. Her eyes were on the raging storm.

"They danced with one partner and another, and in the morning slipped away before anyone knew that they were gone; but a young warrior had fallen in love with one of the sisters on account of her beautiful hair, and after the manner of the Cherokee had already asked her through an old man if she would marry him and let him live with her."

Merle groaned loudly on purpose, knowing exactly what Scarlett was doing. Daryl rolled his eyes at his brother and mentally told him to shut up so he could hear Scarlett.

"To this the young woman had replied that her brother at home must first be consulted, and they promised to return for the next dance seven days later with an answer, but in the meantime if the young man really loved her he must prove his constancy by a rigid fast until then. The eager lover readily agreed and impatiently counted the days."

The lightning flashed quickly, creating a sequence of light, ranging in different colors.

"In seven nights there was another dance. The young warrior was on hand early, and later in the evening the two sisters appeared as suddenly as before. They told him their brother was willing, and after the dance they would conduct the young man to their home, but warned him that if he told anyone where he went or what he saw he would surely die."

Everyone besides Merle was listening. Daryl, of course, had heard this story before. Scarlett's mother would tell them nothing but stories. He still enjoyed hearing it though.

"He danced with them again and about daylight the three came away just before the dance closed, so as to avoid being followed, and started off together. The women led the way along a trail through the woods, which the young man had never noticed before, until they came to a small creek, where, without hesitating, they stepped into the water.

"The young man paused in surprise on the bank and thought to himself, "They are walking in the water; I don't want to do that." The women knew his thoughts just as though he had spoken and turned and said to him, "This is not water; this is the road to our house." He still hesitated, but they urged him on until he stepped into the water and found it was only soft grass that made a fine level trail."

Daryl flinched, the act going unnoticed to all. Daryl couldn't recall a time when Scarlett hadn't read his mind correctly. Merle always said it was the "weird voodoo shit" her family taught her on the Indian Reservation.

"They went on until the trail came to a large stream which he knew for Tallulah river. The women plunged boldly in, but again the warrior hesitated on the bank, thinking to himself, "That water is very deep and will drown me; I can't go on." They knew his thoughts and turned and said, "This is no water, but the main trail that goes past our house, which is now close by." He stepped in, and instead of water there was tall waving grass that closed above his head as he followed them.

"They went only a short distance and came to a rock cave close under Ugûñ'yï (Tallulah falls). The women entered, while the warrior stopped at the mouth; but they said: "This is our house; come in and our brother will soon be home; he is coming now." They heard low thunder in the distance. He went inside and stood tip close to the entrance. Then the women took off their long hair and hung it up on a rock, and both their heads were as smooth as a pumpkin. The man thought, "It is not hair at all," and he was more frightened than ever."

Carl and Sophia giggled at the thought of the bald sisters. Scarlett didn't hear them, though, her mind was somewhere else.

"The younger woman, the one he was about to marry, then sat down and told him to take a seat beside her. He looked, and it was a large turtle, which raised itself up and stretched out its claws as if angry at being disturbed. The young man said it was a turtle, and refused to sit down, but the woman insisted that it was a seat.

"Then there was a louder roll of thunder and the woman said, "Now our brother is nearly home." While they urged and he still refused to come nearer or sit down, suddenly there was a great thunder clap just behind him, and turning quickly he saw a man standing in the doorway of the cave."

Everyone jumped when the thunder loudly rumbled again. Scarlett acted as if though she hadn't heard it. Daryl wasn't fazed by the coincidence at all. When Scarlett's mother told the story the thunder always clapped the loudest at this point.

""This is my brother," said the woman, and he came in and sat down upon the turtle, which again rose up and stretched out its claws. The young warrior still refused to come in. The brother then said that he was just about to start to a council, and invited the young man to go with him. The hunter said he was willing to go if only he had a horse; so the young woman was told to bring one. She went out and soon came back leading a great uktena snake, that curled and twisted along the whole length of the cave.

"Some people say this was a white uktena and that the brother himself rode a red one. The hunter was terribly frightened, and said "That is a snake; I can't ride that." The others insisted that it was no snake, but their riding horse. The brother grew impatient and said to the woman, "He may like it better if you bring him a saddle and some bracelets for his wrists and arms."

"So they went out again and brought in a saddle and some arm bands, and the saddle was another turtle, which they fastened on the uktena's back, and the bracelets were living slimy snakes, which they got ready to twist around the hunter's wrists."

Now, they were all confused. They wondered where this story was going.

"He was almost dead with fear, and said, "What kind of horrible place is this? I can never stay here to live with snakes and creeping things." The brother got very angry and called him a coward, and then it was as if lightening flashed from his eyes and struck the young man, and a terrible crash of thunder stretched him senseless."

The storm grew stronger, as if it was listening to the story too.

"When at last he came to himself again he was standing with his feet in the water and both hands grasping a laurel bush that grew out from the bank, and there was no trace of the cave or the Thunder People, but he was alone in the forest. He made his way out and finally reached his own settlement, but found then that he had been gone so very long that all the people had thought him dead, although to him it seemed only the day after the dance."

The youngest of the group leaned forward, desperately wanting to know how the story ended.

"His friends questioned him closely, and, forgetting the warning, he told the story; but in seven days he died, for no one can come back from the underworld and tell it and live."

Scarlett stopped talking, and silence dawned upon them. The storm raged on, it seemed like it would never end. They feared the thunder would leave them deaf, and be blinded by the lightning.

Everyone stared at Scarlett with uneasy faces. They hadn't expected the story to end that way. Daryl kept his eyes on Scarlett, noticing, that like in the story, her eyes had a quick flash of lightning in them. He had noticed it since they were kids. Scarlett's mother once had told the same story, and Daryl had noticed Scarlett's mother pause and stare at her daughter. He swears that he saw lightning flash in her eyes, hell; Scarlett's mother had even seen it.

They were all officially drenched.

"That wasn't a happy ending," Sophia whispered.

**-Page Break-**

"_Mama, mama, mama!"_

_Eight year old Scarlett Thornton pushed the screen door open, letting it slam, not bothering to catch it. Even though she knew that if her father were home she'd be scolded, but Scarlett didn't care. She was too happy right now._

"_Mama! Mama, look!"_

_Skidding to a stop, Scarlett thrusted a piece of paper into her mother's lap._

_Brenda Thorn ton looked down at the piece of paper as if though it was a snake. She practically plucked the sheet from her lap and looked it over._

_It was Scarlett's report card, the first one of the school year. Brenda wasn't surprised to see the continues _'A's' _on the paper. Scarlett was smart, not that anyone told her that usually._

"A-ge-yu-tsa_, you show me the same thing every time." Brenda handed Scarlett the paper back, picking up the wine she was drinking._

_Scarlett's excitement faded. "But I did good."_

"_You always do good," Brenda said. "That's your problem. You're too damn perfect."_

_Scarlett shook her head. She wasn't perfect, she knew that. If she was perfect her mother would be happy for her right now. If she was perfect she'd be able to remember everything her father told her so she wouldn't get yelled at. If she was perfect she wouldn't fall asleep in class from time to time. If she was perfect she wouldn't get picked on constantly._

_Brenda noticed the smile on her daughter's face disappear. Brenda's frown deepened as well, and she took another sip of the wine. Why she thought she could drown her emotions was beyond her, it never worked. It was true what her own mother had said about being connected to nature. She would never escape any kind of emotion. Neither would Scarlett and that worried Brenda greatly._

_Looking over at the clock, Brenda cursed under her breath. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and that meant her husband would be home soon expecting a late afternoon dish to be hot and ready for him on the table._

"_Inola, go do something else then distract me." Brenda stood up and began to prepare her husband's food._

_Scarlett sulked once she got outside, but kept an eye out for her father's rusty pick-up truck. If he saw her crying he'd ask if she got shot or stabbed, and when she said _"no" _he'd start to tell her to stop being a sissy and grow up._

_Knowing her mother wouldn't acknowledge her until dinner, Scarlett took off running to the outskirts of town, and not caring is she was going to get in trouble when she got home._

_She knew Daryl would be proud of her._

**-Page Break-**

"What was with tha story?"

Scarlett looked up from chopping the wood. "I don't know." She wiped her brow. "It shut 'em up, didn't it?"

Daryl nodded his head. "Couldn't sleep," he stated.

Scarlett swung at the wood again. "Me either."

Making room on the damp ground, Daryl sat down and picked up Scarlett's hatchet. "Ya know, I've heard that story so much that I could say it in my sleep?"

Scarlett laughed and chopped again. "Ya don't remember, do ya?"

"Remember what?"

"Ya use to recite tha story in your sleep, dummy," Scarlett teased. "Seriously though, ya use to say it over and over 'gain." She knew it was Daryl's favorite story simply because when they were kids and anytime it began to storm Daryl was allowed to spend the night at Scarlett's house. "Sometimes ya would say my name, and other times you were jabbering on 'bout somethin' your old man or Merle did. Ya rarely spoke of your mama."

"Never spoke 'bout her much when I was awake either," Daryl mumbled.

Daryl would never say it out loud, but Scarlett was there more for Daryl than Merle was. She had seen him through his belittled ups and his major downs. He ran to her when his father got too violent. He'd hide out at her place, not that her parents minded. He knew they pitied him, but Scarlett never did.

When his father had broken his arm and a couple of his ribs once, Daryl ran out the house to Scarlett's. The moment her parents had saw him pity enter their eyes. Daryl always wondered why they seemed to worry more for him than they did for their own daughter. Knowing that he hated it when people tried to baby him, the next morning Scarlett had woken him up like she always had: jumping on top of him. She didn't try to make him see how worthless he was like his father did, she didn't tell him he looked like a hairless pussy like Merle did, and she didn't treat him like a poor cripple like her parents did. Scarlett treated him like she always had, which was like a regular human being.

"Never understood it though."

Scarlett stopped chopping the woods and sat down next to Daryl. "I didn't either as a kid, but I never thought to ask." In Scarlett's family – on both sides – if you wanted to know something you better figure it out yourself or you'd never learn anything. "It means don't love somethin' for its outer beauty 'cause what ya see may not be what ya really get. Also, guys think with their dicks too much.

Daryl pushed her shoulder, making her loose her balance. "You're real funny."

Scarlett laughed and pushed him back, and he never flinched. Let it have been anyone else and Daryl would have moved away, not wanting to be touched. It was never like that with Scarlett, though. She was different.

Lying down, Scarlett looked up at the sky. It was a pretty night now that the storm had passed. You could make out the stars and their alignment. The moon shined dimly, but was full.

Daryl lay down next to her. He pointed to the moon. "How do you say full moon in Cherokee?"

"Ka-li i-ka-d nv-do," Scarlett replied. "You can also say 'ka-li- i-ka-da nv-do'."

Childhood memories, the few good ones that they had, came rushing back. They had grown up so fast it was pretty scary to think about it.

"Are ya ever gonna tell me a story 'bout the sky?"

Scarlett nodded her head. "Oh yeah, Imma tell ya all 'bout the ne-wa-di, the a-ga-s-gv, the nv-do…everything, some day." She didn't look over at him, but she silently allowed her hand to search for his. "O-s-da-su-no-e, Daryl."

She was surprised when she felt him take her hand in his. "G'night, Scar."

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**Translation:**

A ge yu tsa: girl

Ka-li- i-ka-da nv-do (formal), Ka-li i-ka-d nv-do (conversational): full moon

Ne-wa-di: sky

A-ga-s-gv: rain

Nv-do: moon

O-s-da-su-no-e: goodnight 

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***Nervously bites my nails and shakes my leg***

**How'd ya like it? What do you think of Scarlett? How about how close she and Daryl are?**

**Most importantly, should I continue? Please let me know.**

**Review and tell me your thoughts, and maybe favorite and/or follow this story and me? Maybe? Yes? No?**

**Have a nice day!**

**PS: If any of ya like Halloween or the Tudors, check out my stories The Internship (Halloween) and A Courtier's Life (Tudors). **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Thank you all for viewing my story and following it and adding it to your favorite.**

**SPECIAL THANKS TO:**

**Jaks (guest): Thank you**

**In this chapter there will be two short stories, racial remarks, and swearing. Oh, also Andrea bashing. Am I the only one who hates that bitch?**

**Check out my tumblr ( makeyourbodyacanvas) for pictures of Scarlett and the group. Leave comments, questions, advice, anything.**

**If you were wondering what Scarlett looks like, look up Alexandra Daddario. She's played in the Percy Jackson movies, Texas Chainsaw, True Detective, and a couple of other things.**

**~I own nothing and nobody except for Scarlett.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 2: Two Lazy Hunters**

"C'mon now, Scar, I'm tryin' ta do something here."

Scarlett rolled her eyes, but didn't stop playfully bumping her knee against Daryl's side. Like usual, Daryl and Scarlett were the first ones awake, so that meant they had time to themselves for another hour at least. Scarlett and Daryl were what you would call outsiders or loners. They greatly enjoyed each other's company, though.

Turning on her stomach, Scarlett rested her chest against her arms, giving her support. "Do you know how many stories the Cherokee people have of hunters?"

"No," Daryl said.

Scarlett picked up a twig. "Neither do I."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Scarlett was so odd sometimes it made him rethink how they ever became friends. He put his bows to the side and started to clean his crossbow.

"Ya clean that thing more than ya clean yourself." Scarlett wrinkled her nose jokingly.

"Welp," Daryl sighed. "It's either make sure this works properly and live, or worry 'bout my hygiene and die."

A snorted laugh came from Scarlett. "When ya put it that way…" she trailed off. Her eyes swept around the tent, looking at nothing in particular.

Scarlett had her own tent to sleep in at night, but that quickly became the place where all the clothing was stored. Daryl had no problem with Scarlett staying in his tent, in fact, he insisted that she stayed with him then sleeping by herself. He knew that she could take care of herself, but it made him feel better having her in his sight. All of Scarlett's belongs had been moved into Daryl's tent the first night they had met up with the group, and no body questioned as to why. It was clear that the two friends were close and had a special connection, but they couldn't help but wonder if something more was going on.

As kids, they were constantly teased about being a couple. Back when cooties were real, the boys would pick with Daryl daily, saying that he was going all soft and that liking a girl was gross, especially since she was a half-breed. Daryl had lost count as to how many fights he got in as a kid, and they were all mostly about Scarlett. The girls would tell Scarlett that it was unladylike to have a male friend because all boys were bad, but dating white trash like Daryl Dixon was degrading. Scarlett was sent home practically every day from fighting any girl who spoke ill of Daryl. Growing up in Georgia was harder on Scarlett simply because she was multiracial.

Scarlett was the daughter of a minor who came from European descent and a mother who was Native American. She was an only child, and that never bothered her. After witnessing how Merle would treat Daryl at times was enough for Scarlett to be grateful for the fact that her parents never had any other children. People had always joked that she wasn't Cherokee because of her creamy, pale skin – she was whiter than a ghost, or snow. Her black hair had a mixture of purple and blue in it, only visible when the sun was shining down on her. She had inherited her hair from her mother's side of the family; everyone, even the men, had beautiful thick, black hair that reached mid-back or further. There was one thing, though, that anybody could pick on her about, and that was her eyes. You could easily see that it was a mixture between her father's blue eyes, and her mother's steel grey ones. They were big too, changed colors as well sometimes.

Scarlett was what society would call 'beautiful', or 'sexy' even, but she just didn't see it. She wasn't raised to be vain, nor did her mother ever tell her that she was beautiful. She was told she was pretty and cute, but that was about it. Brenda and Quincy Thornton never encouraged their daughter to bask in her beauty.

Daryl could be grateful to Scarlett's parents forever, but he despised them whenever they had put her down. Scarlett was outstanding, but her parents never took the time to tell her, or gave her any time of day. Daryl's mother was more of a parent to Scarlett. Mary Dixon had adored Daryl's best friend ever since she had laid eyes on the tiny seven year old Scarlett. Like Daryl, Scarlett was shy and nearly never talked, but Mary had a gift at getting people to talk.

**-Page Break-**

_The Georgian summers were miserable. They were __hot and humid with temperatures in the afternoons that reach, on average, to near 90 °F. Overnight lows fall to near 68 ° and there is usually an 8 °F difference in temperature between the mountains and Atlanta. While humidity in North Georgia, especially in the mountains, can be high it is not as high as it is in South Georgia. Summer thunderstorms add to the humidity in the area by providing rain during the summer months. Flies stuck to everything and everyone like bees on honey. The cool drinks and ice cream quickly melted, and the lakes and ponds were too hot to jump in at times._

_ Mary Dixon wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead as she lowered her arm. The air condition was broke, again. This made it the fifth time this month. She didn't want to go and disturb her husband, but she would have to. They didn't have the money to pay someone to professionally fix it._

_ With the growing heat, Mary couldn't help but worry about her youngest son, Daryl. He had ran out early in the morning, quickly ate his breakfast, and was out the door. She knew it had something to do with the new family that just moved to town, or back to town, she should say. Quincy Thornton had moved his small family into his house, which was the closest house to the outskirts, where the Dixon's live. Quincy and his wife (whom he was forced to marry) had a baby girl seven years ago. The little girl wasn't delivered in a hospital, but on the Indian Reservation. Brenda was Cherokee, and obeying the ways of her people, she gave birth to her daughter on her people's' land. Quincy wasn't allowed to take his family home just yet, though. Brenda's parents requested seven years with the baby girl before she and Brenda left the reservation._

_ It was pass noon, and Mary began to worry more. She knew her boy was fine, but she just couldn't help it. When it came to her boys, it was like a switch in her brian, causing her to worry, even though they were mature enough to take care of themselves. Merle had proved that by beating up the local farmer's boy (and now spending time in juvie for it), and Daryl proved that when he brought home a squirrel or rabbit to eat. Mary' mother had taught her a simple saying, one she remembered when she was sober: __Once you become a mother and that motherly instinct sets in, it's there for life._

_ The back door opened and was shut softly. Mary heard the thumps of Daryl's boots, but the squeaking of sneakers. She could hear the whispered talking, but couldn't make out what was being said. Mary walked towards the back door, suspicion rising in her._

_ "Daryl, baby, is that you? How ya talkin' too, sweetie?"_

_ Mary came around the corner and stopped when she saw who was with her son. It was a small girl who's head just came beneath Daryl's chin. Her blacker than midnight hair was tied back in a high ponytail, showing off her pale baby face. Her cheekbones were high and her lips were a pretty pink coloring. There wasn't a single blemish on her round face. Her had short arms and legs, and appeared not deathly skinny, but skinny enough that it made a twig look fatter than her. The girl stood up straight, but the nervousness rolled off her. Thick black lashes framed beauty grey eyes that had a hint of ocean blue in them. All in all, she was the most beautiful girl Mary had seen._

_ "Oh, baby, who's your friend?" Mary asked._

_ Both females saw the tension leave Daryl's body. He was scared about bring his new friend to meet his mother. He knew it father was sleeping like usual, the old man had a nap everyday in the afternoon. Merle wasn't here to pick on her, so that just left his mother, and he had feared she was drunk. _

_ Daryl looked at his mother. "Ma, this is Scarlett. Mr. Thornton's daughter."_

_ Mary smiled. "Oh, yes, the whole town's been talkin' 'bout you and you're mama." _And how ya shoulda stayed with your own people,_ Mary thought. She hated the Church-Goers who acted all high and mighty and talked bad about everyone. "I'm Mary Dixon, but you can just call me Ma, if ya like."_

_ Scarlett nodded her head, but didn't utter a word. She was standing behind Daryl who had slightly put his body in front of her's. She peeked out from around Daryl's arms and took his mother in. Mary Dixon was a scrawny woman who had no meat on her, but still managed to look fuller than Scarlett, but she looked red in the face. She had stringy brown hair, the color similar to Daryl's. Dark brown eyelashes made her green eyes stand out. Mary's pale skin looked unhealthy, and it was. Scarlett could tell the the woman was sick, the clothing she wore practically hung off her, and the dark circles under her eyes reminded her of the ones under her father's eyes. To Scarlett, and the rest of the town, Mary Dixon looked like a mess._

_ Noticing that the girl wouldn't speak, Mary looked at her son. "Did ya eat?" Daryl shook his head, and Mary turned back to Scarlett. "Are ya hungry, Miss. Scarlett?" That earned Mary a small nod of the head._

_ "What do ya like? I'm sure you don't like squirrel or rabbit like Daryl here." That earned her another nod. "How 'bout deer? Ya like deer? Those Yankee folks says it taste like chicken, but everything taste like chicken to 'em 'cause they never had a real good cooked southern meal." That earned Mary a giggle._

_ Daryl looked to his friend and said, "I got the deer."_

_ Scarlett's eyes widened. "All by yourself?" Her voice reminded Mary of wind chimes. _

_ "He sure did," Mary said. "My 'lil boy is turin' into a man." _

_ Daryl blushed and grabbed Scarlett's hand. "C'mon, she won't bite." He was just worried that his mother might start drinking. Daryl doesn't know why, but his mother loved to drink and smoke in the wrong places where it could get her killed._

_ Scarlett followed Daryl into the small kitchen and watched as Mrs. Dixon pulled out containers filled with deer meat. She stood next to Daryl, looking awkward. Scarlett didn't know how to act in other people's homes, she was just starting to process that every home had a completely different set of rules, and it made her head hurt trying to remember._

_ Mary grabbed three knives and motioned for the kids to come closer. "Baby, you can start chopping up the meat. Have ya ever chopped up meat 'fore, Miss. Scarlett?"_

_ Scarlett nodded her head. "Yes, ma'am. Had ta help my cousins."_

_ Mary smiled and told her to come closer. "Than you can me Daryl's and my special helper today. How's that sound?"_

_ "Fun," Scarlett beamed and got straight to chopping._

_ As they were half way through the containers of meat, Scarlett looked at Daryl. "Whatcha do with tha bones?"_

_ "Use 'em for bait if we go huntin', but for anythin' really. Why?" He knew that Native Americans cherished the land and animals around them, so Daryl wondered if she was upset about how they were using the bones._

_ "No reason," Scarlett sang. She bumped shoulders with him. "Hey, have ya ever wondered how the deer got his horns?"_

_ "Nope," Daryl said. "Long as I can eat 'em I don't care."_

_ "Daryl," his mother chaises him. _

_ Scarlett shook her head. "It's alright, Mrs. Dixon. Daryl's probably tired of hearing stories anyway. My mama's been telling him nothin' but stories for an hour!"_

_ Mary laughed lightly. "Ya still shouldn't have said that, Daryl."_

_ "Sorry, mama," Daryl mumbled. "Ya know I love ya stories, Scar. I just didn't know that ya had a story up your sleeve."_

_ Scarlett giggled, "I always have a story up my sleeve, silly." She leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. "But I forgive ya."_

_ Mary couldn't help the wide grin spread across her face as Daryl's ears reddened at the tip. It seemed like someone had a crush on her baby, and her baby had a crush on someone._

_ "Lettie, why don't ya tell us the story." Mary paused. "It's alright if I call ya Lettie, right?"_

_ Scarlett nodded her head. "Yes, ma'am. The only nicknames I got are Scar and Scarlett."_

_ Daryl looked at his friend with crinkled eyebrows. "How can Scarlett be a nickname? It's your name, dummy."_

_ "No," Scarlett drawled out. "My name on my birth certificate says Mari-Scarlett, but my daddy says that its too much of a mouthful so they just call me Scarlett." She stuck her tongue out at him._

_ "Whatever, that's dumb," Daryl said loud and clear._

_ Before Scarlett could respond, Mary intervened. "How 'bout that story, Lettie?" It was clear to the Dixon mother that like Daryl, Scarlett had a temper and didn't know when to quit when she got started._

_ Scarlett shook her head and lightly hit her forehead with the heel of her palm. "Oh, yeah, duh." She looked down at the deer meant and began._

_ "In the beginning the Deer had no horns, but his head was smooth just like a doe's. He was a great runner and the Rabbit was a great jumper, and the animals were all curious to know which could go farther in the same time. They talked about it a good deal, and at last arranged a match between the two, and made a nice large pair of antlers for a prize to the winner. They were to start together from one side of a thicket and go through it, then turn and come back, and the one who came out first was to get the horns._

_ "On the day fixed all the animals were there, with the antlers put down on the ground at the edge of the thicket to mark the starting point. While everybody was admiring the horns the Rabbit said: "I don't know this part of the country; I want to take a look through the bushes where I am to run." They thought that all right, so the Rabbit went into the thicket, but he was gone so long that at last the animals suspected he must be up to one of his tricks. They sent a messenger to look for him, and away in the middle of the thicket he found the Rabbit gnawing down the bushes and pulling them away until he had a road cleared nearly to the other side._

_ "The messenger turned around quietly and came back and told the other animals. When the Rabbit came out at last they accused him of cheating, but he denied it until they went into the thicket and found the cleared road. They agreed that such a trickster had no right to enter the race at all, so they gave the horns to the Deer, who was admitted to be the best runner, and he has worn them ever since. They told the Rabbit that as he was so fond of cutting down bushes he might do that for a living hereafter, and so he does to this day."_

_ Scarlett blushed and looked down. "Sorry that it's so short, but it's a good story." She looked at Mary and Daryl. "Right?"_

_ Daryl bumped her shoulder this time and smiled. "'Course it is. All ya stories are good."_

_ Mary nodded and smiled. "I've always loved how other culturals had explanations for everythin'. It makes things seem more lively and magical."_

_ "That's what Daryl said!" Scarlett squealed with happiness._

**-Page Break-**

In the afternoon, Scarlett was cleaning the clothing with the other females. As Carol, Miranda, Andrea, Jacqui, and Amy laughed and told jokes, Scarlett noticed that Lori was missing. Across the lake were the guys. They either had fishing rods or sticks and a big net to catch the fish. Daryl and Merle were wondering off on their own, grabbing the fish with their bare hands. Scarlett bit her lip and smirked; it was a complete turn on watching Daryl act more like real man.

"I'm so tired," Andrea yawned, covering her mouth. "Bugs were attacking me last night."

Scarlett rolled her eyes at the blonde. Here we go, Scarlett thought. Andrea had a habit of doing two things: 1) bringing up painful memories, or 2) making everything about her. Scarlett prefered Andrea's sister. Amy was young, but she was quiet and minded her own business. She had a bubbly personality and that came in handy when the kids began to fuss.

"I'm actually use to it now," Carol said.

Everyone in camp knew what Carol and Sophia were going through. Almost every day the females had a new bruise covering their bodies in the shape of a hand print and the size of Ed's hands. Carol's husband was an abusive man, and he didn't need to be drunk to get violent. Ed was naturally mean and violent, and Carol and Sophia stood no chance against him. Granted, Scarlett once kneed Ed so hard in the balls that he vomited, all because he yanked Sophia by the hair. Scarlett was the first (and most likely the last) person who got into their business.

"Bugs ain't hurtin' no one," Scarlett said. "Don't mean I like 'em, though."

"Well, I rather they not come in my tent," Andrea whined.

Scarlett rolled her eyes again and scoff, "I'll make a memo to tell 'em that."

"I have no doubt you can," Andrea said.

The woman stopped washing the clothing and looked towards Scarlett, and then to Andrea.

Throwing a shirt into the water, completely forgotten, Scarlett stood up. "What's that 'ppose ta mean?"

Andrea squinted up at Scarlett and shrugged. "It meant nothing."

"Bullshit," Scarlett spat. Her temper was a nasty thing, and she easily allowed it to get the best of her. With clenched fist, Scarlett felt her nails dig into her palms. She was sure she was going to have markings from them in the morning.

"Scarlett," Jacqui tried to reason. "Just calm…"

"Stay the fuck out of this, Jacqui," Scarlett hissed. "She meant somethin' with that comment of hers. She's a big girl, she can speak for herself, can't ya, Andrea?"

A snorted laugh came from Andrea and she stood up too. With a hand on her hip, she shrugged her shoulders again. "Look, Scarlett, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. Can't ya take a joke, for God's sake?"

The rage came to it's boiling point. Picking up her weapon of chose, which was a hatchet, Scarlett made her way towards Andrea. "Imma show why Merle calls me a fucking Hatchet-Packer!" The other women screamed, and Andrea stumbled back, tripping over her feet.

Before Scarlett could reach Andrea, two arms wrapped around her waist, picking her up. She knew it was Daryl and tried squirming out of his grasp. "Let go of me, Daryl. Imma kill the stupid bitch!"

"Yeah, that's exactly why I can't let you go," Daryl said and pulled her farther away from the terrified blonde.

Merle, on the other hand, was laughing so hard tears rolled down his face. "Whew-we, sugar tits! If ya coulda saw your damn face! Looks like a damn monkey!" He laughed harder. "I told all ya stupid fucks not ta mess with the Squaw, but none of ya listened. Whew, that was the first time I laughed in years."

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," Scarlett spat. She shrugged Daryl's arms off of her, the adrenalin still pumped through her veins.

"Oh, God," Merle laughed again. "You're face is red as a tomato, Squaw."

"Shut the hell up, Merle!" Daryl knew Scarlett was a second away from lodging her hatchet into his brother's skull.

Merle took in a deep breath. "Ah, don't get your panties inna bunch, Darlene."

"Don't call me that," Daryl growled.

Before the brothers could start fighting now, Dale approached them, looking between the three of them. "Um, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask Scarlett what that little episode was all about."

"Ask away, old man," Merle said, staring Dale down.

Scarlett spat at the ground and looked at Dale with blazing eyes. "Keep her the fuck away from, Dale, or next time nothing, not even Daryl, will stop me from killing the bitch."

Merle and Daryl shared a look. They knew Andrea had to make some sly remark about Scarlett's ethnicity. She sure to get bullied all the time for her Native American heritage. Kids would ask her if she could bring back the dead with her unholy powers, why her people were savages, and they constantly told her that her mother fucked a horse or a dog or some sort of animal, and that she would too. Just the little things set Scarlett off.

"Hey, old man," Merle said lowly. "Tell sugar tits that if I evea hear 'bout her sayin' somethin' 'bout Scarlett that Imma kill her myself. She's my Indian to pick with."

And that couldn't have been nothing but the truth. Merle and Scarlett had an odd relationship. They would call each other the most down right dirtiest names ever, but let anyone else say something about the other person, and you were sure to get your ass kicked. Not only had Daryl gotten in fights over Scarlett, but Merle did as well, and Scarlett got in fights about Merle as well. Hell, Scarlett had once cussed out the principle for inferring that Merle grew up in the 'dirty' part of North Georgia.

Just before Dale left, he said, "Daryl, Shane wants you to go hunting tonight."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Ain't that what we were just doin'?"

Dale shrugged his shoulders. "I would sure say so, but Shane says we need bigger portions."

"Then pretty boy can go get 'em deer 'emself," Merle spat. He didn't like anyone ordering his little brother around.

"I'll go tomorrow, probably bring Scar along." Daryl looked down at Scarlett who nodded. He could see the tense muscles in her neck. He placed a hand on the back of her neck, and squeezed softly. Scarlett immediately calmed down. "Right now it's best if I stay with her."

Dale nodded his head and took off.

Daryl dragged Scarlett to the edge of the large lake and sat down with her. As Merle went back to trying to grab some fish, Daryl pulled Scarlett close and rested his chin on top of her head. "Tell me a story."

"A party of warriors once started out for a long hunting trip in the mountains. They went on until they came to a good game region, when they set up their bark hut in a convenient place near the river side. Every morning after breakfast they scattered out, each man for himself, to be gone all day, until they returned at night with whatever game they had taken. There was one lazy fellow who went out alone every morning like the others, but only until he found a sunny slope, when he would stretch out by the side of a rock to sleep until evening, returning then to camp empty-handed, but with his moccasins torn and a long story of bow he had tramped all day and found nothing. This went on until one of the others began to suspect that something was wrong, and made it his business to find it out. The next morning he followed him secretly through the woods until he saw him come out into a sunny opening, where he sat down upon a large rock, took off his moccasins, and began rubbing them against the rocks until he had worn holes in them. Then the lazy fellow loosened his belt, lay down beside the rock, and went to sleep. The spy set fire to the dry leaves and watched until the flame crept close up to the sleeping man, who never opened his eyes.

"The spy went back to camp and told what he had seen. About supper time the lazy fellow came in with the same old story of a long day's hunt and no game started. When he had finished the others all laughed and called him a sleepyhead. He insisted that he had been climbing the ridges all day, and put out his moccasins to show how worn they were, not knowing that they were scorched from the fire, as he had slept on until sundown. When they saw the blackened moccasins they laughed again, and he was too much astonished to say a word in his defense; so the captain said that such a liar was not fit to stay with them, and he was driven from the camp.

"There was another lazy fellow who courted a pretty girl, but she would have nothing to do with him, telling him that her husband must be a good hunter or she would remain single all her life. One morning he went into the woods, and by a lucky accident managed to kill a deer. Lifting it upon his back, he carried it into the settlement, passing right by the door of the house where the girl and her mother lived. As soon as he was out of sight of the house he went by a roundabout course into the woods again and waited until evening, when he appeared with the deer on his shoulder and came down the trail past the girl's house as he had in the morning. He did this the next day, and the next, until the girl began to think he must be killing all the deer in the woods. So her mother-the old women are usually the matchmakers-got ready and went to the young man's mother to talk it over.

"When she arrived and the greetings were done she said, "Your son must be a good hunter." "No," replied the old woman, "he seldom kills anything." "But he has been killing a great many deer lately." "I haven't seen any," said his mother. "Why, he has been carrying deer past our house twice a day for the last three days." "I don't know what he did with them," said the young man's mother; "he never brought them here." Then the girl's mother was sure there was something wrong, so she went home and told her husband, who followed tip the young man's trail into the woods until it brought him to where the body of the deer was hidden, now so far decayed that it had to be thrown away."

Nobody said anything as Scarlett finished telling the story of the two lazy hunters, and at the moment, Scarlett had wished to be like them. She could easily tell a lie, but if Daryl, Merle, and Scarlett never went out hunting then everyone would surly starve to death. She wondered (sarcastically) how hard it must be to clean the clothes, clean the pots and pan, prepare dinner, have everyone praise you of how good it tasted, and then go to sleep only to repeat the same thing.

Yeah, Scarlett thought, it must be a fucking ball buster.

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**RACIAL WORDS/NAMES & SEXUAL REMARKS:**

**Savage: used for any race deemed uncivilized **

**Hatchet-Packer: Native American slur; suggesting that the Natives used hatchets as one of their main weapons.**

**Squaw: a very offensive slur towards Native American women**

**!I ADVISE NOR ENCOURAGE ANYONE TO USE THESE WORDS!**

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**So what did you think?**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!**


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